His literary instincts began to stir. Gerald crossed back to the window. " "It is," answered Wood. “You ask me to be engaged to you, Mr. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers.
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